


show me (a garden that's bursting out to life)

by hanadayo



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Car Accidents, Dorks, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Light Angst, M/M, class-representation Keito, musician Yuto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26173864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanadayo/pseuds/hanadayo
Summary: It wasn’t like they’re best friends. Or comrades. They’re just mere classmates, nothing more. Nevertheless, the words he just said, it felt like a distant sorrow. Something about Keito, the boy who sat beside him now, is different. Does he really look at him that way?
Relationships: Nakajima Yuto/Okamoto Keito
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	show me (a garden that's bursting out to life)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time publishing fanfiction in english. i ... don't know how to feel about it. lol.  
> hope you like it ♡

_Chasing Cars_ was played on the radio, Yuto hummed along into it and tapping his fingers rhythmically. It was a quiet snowy Monday and he had no schoolwork, so he decided to spend his free time on the hospital’s rooftop.

His broken—and bandaged—left ankle and immobilized right foot looks painful, but the _mighty_ Nakajima Yuto never whined a bit about it. The car accident that ruined his life two months ago seemed like a distant memory, and all he wanted to do is to forget.

So, he tried.

He acted like his ankle is completely fine, like it’s never seen any dark days.

He always put a pretty smile to hide the pain whenever he used his feet to walk. He laughed the hardest so that the crowded mind he currently has didn’t jump out and ruined the moment. He joked around so nobody would discover the hate he has for himself, for being so weak and broken.

Sometimes, Yuto liked to sit and watch the sky in silence. Without being around people, without faking anything. Just him, the chill air, and the indefinite horizon.

Somehow, he wondered: what if he didn’t make it that day? What if the cells in his body decided to give up and… stop? Will he be happier on the other side? Why did he still alive and need to suffer this?

School is ruined—he no longer has the same reputation. The once famous basketball player and musician Nakajima Yuto, turned into the piteous boy no one dared to look. They said it is painful to look at his broken ankle. The team said it sucks to compete in a tournament without him (but hey, they still win by the way).

He started asking about the meaning of his existence after this: was he still worth it? Is there anything he still can do for everyone? It’s always been him, the one who asked for help. But he wanted to be a help too. He hated the fact that he can’t do anything now.

He’s too weak.

Things that are weak will break, as men do who think they are strong.

He closed his eyes, letting the overwhelmed feelings surged through his body for a while.

 _Chasing Cars_ never felt so sad like this before.

It was his favorite song to play at gigs, but somehow, now the lyrics turned into something that could cut his bleeding scars deeper.

He felt so lonely.

Soundlessly, he wished for everything to stop into the thin air.

——

“Oh God, there you are!” A voice suddenly pulled him back to reality. Funnily enough, the song just changed from _Chasing Cars_ to some high-beat song about a parade of love realization on the radio.

That voice belonged to some brown-haired boy who stood not so far away from him, panting—seemed like he came here running. Yuto just frowned, not expecting the boy’s appearance at the hospital’s rooftop.

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking out for you,” he answered, still panting. “I come here to give my notes to you. Here.”

Yuto blinked for a moment, not sure to process this moment. “You come all the way from school, knowing our teacher will come to this hospital later to give me the notes … are you an idiot?”

_(He still took the book full of today’s lesson notes from the boy’s hand, by the way)._

“No, I’m not an idiot. I was happened to be a responsible class representation, so I just want to know that you’re currently still alive and taking your notes. That’s it.” The suffocated wannabe boy plopped down beside Yuto, searching for air.

Yuto chuckled. “You’re an idiot.”

“’ Am not.”

“You are.”

“Okay, whatever.” The boy rolled his eyes, amusing Yuto.

The banter stopped there. Yuto closed his eyes again, trying to not think about anything bad while he had someone beside him. Trying to be not negative, and be the cheerful and once-popular Nakajima Yuto for his classmate. He put all of his pent-up feelings somewhere in the back of his mind.

“You know what,” he heard the boy whispered. “You don’t have to hide it, you know.”

“What?” Still with eyes closed, Yuto frowned.

“The pain.” Yuto did not sure why the boy beside him chose to whisper this to him like the subject is a secret that the universe doesn’t need to know—well, maybe it _is_. But it’s for Yuto, not for him, right?

“I’m one-hundred percent still the Nakajima Yuto that you know, Keito.”

“No, you’re not.” This time, Yuto opened his eyes, and looked at Keito. The boy seemed to play with his jacket’s button, not bothering to look into Yuto’s face as he spoke. “You bottled up your feelings. You’re the not the Yuto that I know, the one who always wear his heart on his sleeves.”

It wasn’t like they’re best friends. Or comrades. They’re just mere classmates, nothing more. Nevertheless, the words he just said, it felt like a distant sorrow. Something about Keito, the boy who sat beside him now, is different. Does he really look at him that way?

“I’m going to bounce back after all of these treatments, Keito. Don’t worry.”

“It’s an empty promise,” accused him. “Even yourself still doubted it, right?”

They fell silent.

As far as Yuto knows, Keito is not the “always sunshine and rainbows” type of classmate. He’s a responsible class representation, indeed—but sometimes, he would come to the class with a grumpy face or lips pouting, just because he couldn’t sleep the night before, with all his works haunted him.

They talked—of course, they are _classmates_ —but Keito has his own group to chat with. While Yuto is the superstar everyone wants to talk to, Keito keeps his circle small. He doesn’t really enjoy attention. On some rainy days, Yuto would find him somewhere in the back of the library, reading books, just because he forgot his umbrella and didn’t want to get wet—he rather stayed than dancing in the pouring rain with his friends. That’s just how he is.

He doesn’t care about the world, he just wants to be himself. Not caring about the irony this society holds.

So, it surprised Yuto to find Keito actually _cares_ about him.

“Why do you care?” Yuto asked. He turned off the radio, now completely focusing on the engaged conversation.

“I … don’t know?”

“There must be something, Keito.”

“I don’t know, okay?” Keito ruffled his hair, now looking at Yuto, with vision blurred. He didn’t realize he has crystal in the corner of his brown orbs. “I only know that I care about you. I’m afraid that you will stop attending school, leaving the basketball you love, and the abandoned garage in the back of the school, the place you usually used to practice with your bandmates. I …” The air chokes him. “I … don’t want to attend school without seeing you there, sitting in the back, smiling, and talking to your friends.

I’m afraid that you’ll be … gone. And the possibilities of us stopped talking. Forgetting each other.”

A tear rolled down Keito’s cheek. He sniffled, harshly wiping off his teardrop.

“I hate you for making me feel this way.”

For a second, Yuto completely lost all of his ability to process any words—until the chilly air started to get colder, and he blinked his eyes. Once, twice. And then he fully recovered from the daydream, because now he realizes that everything that Keito just said, is real.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re an idiot, Keito.”

No retorts or contradictions are coming from the other party. Keito didn’t dare to look into Yuto’s eyes that intensely staring at him—secretly showing adoration. Yuto wanted to say something more, to say that he appreciates Keito’s kindness, and is thankful for the feeling that he has. But he couldn’t find the right words to express them.

He leaned his head to Keito’s shoulder, instead.

It’s warm.

And when he feels Keito’s fingers are slipping between his jet-black locks, he knows everything will be okay.

_They’ll be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> i miss keito, and okajima, and this fic doesn't do justice about it. i'm so sorry because the plot is rushed, and that's a pretty weak-ass ending i got there. i'll try better next time. big luvs luvs for you all ♡♡


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